Restless Heart Syndrome A Sherlock Songfic
by TeddyFireboltArmstrong
Summary: John is diagnosed with a brain tumor. Sherlock finds out with only a week of John's life left. How will they cope? Based on the Green Day song 'Restless Heart Syndrome'


_Restless Heart Syndrome- _

'_I've got a really bad disease_

_It's got me begging on my hands and knees'_

**John's POV**

I write. I know he'll probably never read this but I'll feel better with it written down. I write about how I am expected to die soon, how I never wanted it to end like this, how much I will miss Sherlock, what to do when I'm gone and what NOT to do when I'm gone. All that soppy stuff. _Oh great! _I think, _I'm crying already!_ "John, pull yourself together!" I say out loud to myself, slapping my right cheek. "C'mon finish the letter!" _I got to finish this fast before Sherl- _I cut myself off, everything is really dizzy. I can't think. I see Sherlock's feet as I collapse. I suddenly see black…

'_So, take me to emergency_

_Cause something seems to be missing'_

**Sherlock's POV**

I wait. The doctors said they are trying everything. I doubt it, Mycroft and I could probably find a doctor that is ten times better and could get John flown there in less than 24 hours. But John isn't stable, he can't move. Yet. As soon as he is able, I will fly him out but until then, I just have to wait. I've already waited 2 and a half hours and the good Doctor, Who is a good friend of John's, said at least 3 hours. So only half an hour more, I guess. That's when the Doc himself comes out of John's Room; He had a very grim look on his face…

'_Somebody take the pain away_

_It's like an ulcer bleeding in my brain'_

**John's POV**

I sign. I've been signing documents and wills for the last hour, practically since I woke up. The doctor thinks I won't make the week, I agree, Sherlock disagrees. I've been diagnosed with a brain tumour. I've known for about a month, when I went to the doctor for my headaches. At the time I had put it down to stress and living with Sherlock. (Which is probably worse than stress) He went out an hour ago to get coffee, but I know he's crying. He hasn't left my side since I woke up and he needed air, a lot of air. I sit and wait. Not talking or eating, even though the doctor brought me dinner already. I regret now telling Sherlock now. He's been there for me always. But he's still mad, I know. He's trying to put on a brave face, but I know him. Very well…

'_So send me to the pharmacy _

_So I can lose my memory'_

**Sherlock POV **

I walk. I'm heading back to the hospital. I'm pissed at John._ Why didn't he tell me? _I think, does_ he think I would've taken it the wrong way?_ So many questions, that I won't be asking him. I won't put him in a fight now, especially not when he has a week to live. I've been to the pharmacy already. I had planned to kill myself long before John came into my life. He was the only thing keeping me from doing it and when he goes that will be the very first thing I do. Oh god, I'm crying again. Tears stream down my face; I see the looks people are giving me, like I'm some widow that recently lost her wife. I guess I am, in a way. I just want this over…

'_I'm elated, medicated_

_Lord knows I tried to find a way to run away'_

**John's POV**

I dream. I dream of him, Sherlock. It's not a good dream either. I see Sherlock, his trying to kill himself in every way he could think of. He keeps failing each time, as if God doesn't want him to die, not just yet. No matter how hard I cry, how loud I yell, I can't seem to get him to hear me. _So this is what being dead feels like?_ I asked myself. Well either I'm so far under I can't wake up until the medication wears off or I'm in fact dead. I just want to speak to him, one last time. Tell him I love him, that it will all be ok. I just need to reach out and touch him. But I can't. I cry even harder, as he looks directly at me when I call his name for the last time, even though he can't see me, I know he's he knows I'm there. "I'm sorry John" he says, and blows his head off with his infamous pistol…

'_I think they found another cure_

_For broken hearts and feeling insecure'_

**Sherlock's POV**

I watch. John's sleeping now. He seems so peaceful. I wish I could sleep, but then I would dream, and those will be nightmares. It always is. To be honest, I haven't slept since my 'Hounds of Basketville' case. That giant dog will forever haunt me. But tonight I'm sure it will bring nightmares about the dog AND John dying. I couldn't bear it. Not now at least. I promised that I will be there when he dies, and I will be, I just want to be ready. I've been told by the doctor that we can't move him, as they expect him to only be alive for another 48 hours at most. I don't want to leave him again. That was when John awoke, this was it. He wouldn't be back asleep again. The last time Dr. John Watson will be awake …

'_You'd be surprised what I endure_

_What makes you feel so self-assured?'_

**John's POV**

I talk. And talk. And talk, I talk to Sherlock. We talked about everything, well everything already. "You know what you be the best thing to do today?" I asked Sherlock out of the blue, I waited a bit then after a while ended with "Go back home"

"You know I can't let you do that John" Sherlock said sadly "We can't move you"

"I know, I know" I quickly said "It was just a thought. You'd be surprised what I can endure, you know"

I noticed the surroundings for the first time, we were in a hospital room to ourselves, white walls, white ceilings, white floor, pretty much white everything. The nurse came in then to check if we were alright, I noticed her name was Nicole at least; she was very attractive even though I just got a quick look at her, before she was out of the room. Sherlock tried talking again, it worked for a while but we went back to an awkward silence. The doctors brought us both lunch and I noticed they were very grim. That was when they called Sherlock out of the room…

'_I need to find a place to hide_

_You never know what could be waiting outside_

_The accidents that you could find_

_It's like some kind of suicide'_

**Sherlock's POV**

I hear. "He's got about 6 six hours left" The doctors words still rung over and over in my head 5 hours later. I didn't want it to be true. My best friend. No. My brother would be dead in an hour. I was on the verge of crying, though I pulled a straight face for John, he always said my poker face was perfect. Though now, I think it's terrible. I really just want to crawl inside a hole and die there; But John comes first, now and always! So I sit there, bad poker face and all and wait. The doctors and I haven't told John that he has 20 minutes left nor will we. But I think he knows it's coming…

'_So what ails you, is what impales you_

_I feel like I've been crucified to be satisfied'_

**John's POV**

I know. I know I don't have long left, I can feel myself become weaker every second. So I make it quick "Listen Sherlock" I struggle to get the words out "I don't want you to worry about me, wherever I go, I will always watch down on you. Don't do anything drastic please. I want you live a long and full life. You'll eventually forget about me anyways" I told him weakly, "You'll get a new partner anyways"

"John, I'll never forget you, you know that right" Sherlock said skipping over my point "I could never do that to you, you're more of a brother to me than my own brother" He laughed for the first time since this started, I'm sure it was his last laugh.

"Sherlock" I said after a few moments "It's happening"

"John" he said quickly, tears streaming down his face "I love you" he hugged me as the world went white and then into black. I was dead…

'_I'm a victim of my symptom_

_I am my own worst enemy_

_You're a victim of your symptom_

_You are your own worst enemy_

_Know your enemy'_

**Sherlock's POV**

He died. I cried. The great team of Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes was over. The machines hooked up to John flat lined. The doctors came into turn it off and took his body to the morgue. I stood there, staring at the now empty bed, not believing anything. There was paperwork I had to sign but I just ignored the doctors and walked straight out of the building. I wanted to scream. Scream until my lungs gave out. But I won't. I go back to our, well my, apartment and write my story down. It had been John's job to record everything for his blog, but I am taking over. This will be the ending. I guess it will be my suicide note to the world. I still wasn't sure about it, John had told me not to do it. But I'm used to doing things John told me not to do. I guess I am my own worst enemy. So here it goes….

Dear John…


End file.
